


Once We Were Great

by Ravenclaw_Peredhel



Series: Middle-Earth One-Shots [15]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:53:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel
Summary: The Nazgul were great and powerful once, or so the stories tell us. At least a few took the Rings that Sauron gave them out of a desire to do good. To help.But Sauron betrayed them, and when he deemed the time right, he devoured them, leaving hollow spirits of terror in the place of men.
Series: Middle-Earth One-Shots [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092071
Kudos: 10





	Once We Were Great

**Author's Note:**

> Just a rambling thought that popped partially formed into my head.  
> It's kinda short and makes no sense, but hey.

We were great once, kings and lords, rulers of power unmatched. Perhaps you know our names, names which sometimes we forget. Khamul, God-King of the Eastern Lands. Isilmo, the younger brother of Tar-Telperien, who carved out an empire for himself in the wilderness of Middle Earth. Gloredhel, the last lord of the Edain who refused Numenor. 

Some of us were cruel, some of us were kind. Some of us were noble, some of us were craven. Some of us were strong, some of us were weak. Some of us were wise, all of us were foolish. 

Our stories are all the same. We ruled, loved or feared or respected, powerful and great. One day, a Maia or an Elf or a simple merchant offered us a gift. It was always a ring. The noble among us took it as a sign of respect. The kind as a gift. The cruel as their rightful tribute. The ring would give us Power, increasing our strength, our stamina, our speed, our senses and eventually our lives. At first we wore it only in direst need. But the definition of direst need slowly changed. Before we knew it, we wore it all the time, were addicted to it. Then, we began to change. Sometimes it was a scream, sometimes being oddly translucent or an animal fleeing in terror. The change grew and grew, as our innermost selves changed as well. The kind became cruel, the noble dishonourable and the wise became foolish. 

An itch made itself present in our minds, a niggle, a twitch. It was barely noticeable at first occupied as we were with the strange changes consuming us. The itch would grow and grow, until one day we left, heading we did not know where, heading to Him, leaving behind our domains which disappeared shortly after. I abandoned my kingdom, my people and my family. It has been nearly three thousand years and in all that time I do not know what happened to them. 

One day, we found Him. The rest, as they say, is history. Isilmo came first, finding a Shadow in a fortress, a Shadow that overwhelmed his indomitable will. Isilmo was great, a Lord of the House of Elros, with the blood of the High Elves and of the Maiar in his blood, but the Shadow devoured him. Then came Khamul, the greatest God-King that the Eastern lands had ever seen. The Shadow took him too, and Isilmo says that his screams rang out for two moons and a little more. We do not know how long it took the Shadow to break Isilmo. He says that it was at least as long as it took Khamul to break- Isilmo found the Shadow in the second month of autumn, and when he finally caught a glimpse of the outer world again, it was winter. 

One by one, we followed the call, and found the Shadow. One by one, It broke us, turning nine great and powerful men into broken and haunted shadows, enslaved to the greatest Evil remaining in the world, our wills stolen and shredded. It took us a long time to remember how to choose again when He fell.

Our lives are torturous, a mockery of existence, with no chance for an end, for escape beyong the circles of the world. Only pain, and His orders. Even now, nearly two thousand years since His defeat, we can feel the itch, pulling us to him, the urge to follow His wordless commands. When He returns, we shall pay for not obeying His commands. But it will be worth it to leave the Shadow weak for a little longer. One day, His will will overwhelm our own again, and who knows what we will do under His sway. Until that day, we will endure, holding the last bastions of ourselves against him, and hoping for an end.


End file.
